Favor the Road Less Traveled…
by Varimathras
Summary: PreKotOR: The story of Revan and Malak's fall from being the Republic's greatest heroes, to being the Republic's most feared enemies. All from the point of view of Revan's most trusted assassin, beginning from his life, to theirs.
1. Chapter 1

Favor the Road Less Traveled…

Disclaimer: The only parts of this that I own are the characters Araqueil, Serannis, Artecia and any other OC's that may pop up. The way events happen are just that, fan fiction... The planets, characters, organizations, OC's parts in the Star Wars Universe, etc., etc. all belong to George Lucas. Okay... first fic.. lets see how I do. O

Chapter 1: Kessel

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Where to start... Whomever finds this and picks it up off the ground of some derelict place a century from now, or... no... I see no other option as to how this will come to another's hands, seeing how far I've fallen. Enough of my woes though... I enter the story of my life into a datapad because it's something to do between sleep, murder, sex and sleep. Perhaps it would be prudent of me to remove sex from that, I've not indulged Revan in some time, and I only sleep next to her for any shred of comfort I can get. For the hope that maybe someone is able to love me, but I still believe the only reason she can is because her heart is as blackened as mine... because she's embraced the Dark Side as I did.

Aren't you excited? Whoever you are, you could become rich beyond your wildest dreams... Hand this datapad to a Sith or Jedi Archivist and they would pay you cargo vessels filled to the point of leaking with Republic Credits. But you must be sure that there is only one, that there are only Sith or Jedi, because this time I live in, is one of turmoil, of conflict, of death, of misery, of fear, of uncertainty... I am an assassin of the Sith Empire that is headed by Darth Revan. And I have taken too much to bear, I have finally broken, it's been a year since Artecia not only left me, but left the Sith Knighthood. I've become so apathetic of so many things, I kill with the mere gesture of Revans hand. A year ago, I would have balked at the thought of erasing a bloodline, now, without Artecia to remind me of my humanity, I've done it twice.

But let me introduce myself. My name is Araqueil Varimathras. I am a human of twenty-seven years. My eyes are yellow, my hair is white. Artecia would have said my eyes were "a beautiful and soothing topaz" and that my hair was a "brilliant and exotic silver". Pah, more lies from a woman who claims to care... How did I get here, you may ask, how can anyone be so negative? When I was only five years old, my parents were faced with a nightmare of a decision. There were six of them, filthy pig-men... Gamorreans. They were with the Exchange, and they wanted slaves for the spice mines of Kessel. In other words, myself and my sister. The lead one, fatter than the others and with a stench more rank and vulgar than the sewers of the Taris Undercity, held a vibro-axe, and the other five held some assortment of blaster pistols, rifles and maybe one had a carbine. The choices they presented my parents were simple. Everybody, my sister, myself and my parents, die, or, my sister and I are given up for slave labor in the Hell that is Kessel. My father made the decision I would have made, which was the right one, and he died for it.

"Take our children... so long as they live, that's all I and my wife need."

Twenty-two years later, I still remember my mother sobbing in his arms, my father holding back tears, the stink of the Taris Lower City, and that twisted excuse of a grin the Gamorrean flashed before decapitating him. My mother shrieked, the others fired, and the utter silence that lasted an eternity that was finally broken by the sound of her broken corpse slamming onto the ground still haunts me today. I remember my sister's warmth as she held me and kissed me on the forehead, trembling, she was only fifteen, and I was only five.

I would spend two years toiling in those hellishly hot spice mines. By the time I was merely seven, I had the body of an athlete. My sister and I were separated, but after our first year, she weaseled her way into the same mine I was in. And then, the Jedi came. Kessel, had been a problem to the Republic for years, and now the reports of child labor were simply too much for the senate to handle. There were so many of us, all children, crammed in the mines, Twi'lek, Grann, Trandoshann, even an Iridonian, of course I thought he was Human, his horns had not grown yet. The Senate, unbeknownst to us, sent a detachment of Republican Commandos, and three Jedi Knights. I later learned they were to "negotiate" with the Exchange to at least stop the child labor, it would have been impossible to stop the flow of illegal spices from Kessel. What actually happened, still gives me great satisfaction today. That was the first time I saw a lightsaber in use against a living being. The more closed minded called it "cruelty", I called it magnificent. The blade seared through flesh and melted bone as if it were mere plasteel. It was retribution in the purest and most beautiful form. I knew, at that moment, I wanted to be a Jedi Knight. As if my mind was read, the lead Knight, an Iridonian, strode to me with almost urgency. He drew a device from his robe and pressed it against my arm. It hurt, and drew blood, despite my cry, he looked at the device feverishly and back at me. It so happens that device was used to read midichlorians, the lifeblood of the Force. The Iridonian knelt before me and smiled at my childish transfixion to the horns on his head. He said the words that changed my life, for the time being.

"You, although older than one who would be accepted into the Order, have a decision to make."

Two decades later, I remember the smile, so warm and reassuring, the horns on his head, his lightsaber hanging from his belt, the bottom of his light brown robe piled on top of the filth of the mines... And I said yes. He didn't ask anything, but I said yes. And from there, I would meet Artecia, and I would meet Revan and Malak. You however, will have to wait, until I find more time to meditate on these ever so pleasant memories...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Coruscant

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Memories, they're delicate, fragile, malleable, but ever so precious. Even amongst my worst memories there exist a few moments of joy. Her kiss. Her warmth. Her smell. They can be simple and delicate like those. Yet they can be infinitely complex and detailed. They can be painful and repulsive. But I'm sure you've heard enough. You want to hear the details of what happened next in that time of my life... Moving on, Sentient... If you're curious, I do not carry the title "Darth". First off, that is reserved for the most powerful among us. At this point in time, they would be Darth Revan and Darth Malak. Second, I am but a shadow. Amongst the Sith Knighthood, I am a Knight-Captain, nothing more. To Revan's inner circle, I am the most effective means of eliminating a living problem. I do not feel ashamed that I am a tool. I am proud of it. I am proud of my abilities. But as I said, moving on. I'm sure you may be wondering about what happened in my life after I was freed from the Kessel spice mines. My life after joining the Jedi Order.

I was seven years old, two years older than nearly all the other apprentices. And at the time, I had no idea that being just two years older made me a "special" case. I'm sure if they knew what I would become, I would have been slain on the spot. Regardless, I do not remember the exact number of us there were, there were quite a few of us, and only a handful were selected. Obviously, I was among them. My master would be the same Iridonian that brought me to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. I would later learn his name was Vek'lor. He would end up with two students, which was I can only assume was unheard of. After I was selected and the other Knights had selected their pupils, the rest of them were in essence, rejected from the Order, and began to leave. Another Jedi, this one I later learned was a Master, quickly strode to Vek'lor and whispered something in his ear, and gestured to a confused looking blonde haired and blue eyed little girl. I never learned what the Jedi Master, whose name was Kavar, said to Vek'lor. And with that, Vek'lor walked, and then broke into a run as the little girl neared the gates of the Temple. He caught up with her, fell to one knee, and spun her around. Whatever he said, her face just lit up the way the city does at night. I think, upon seeing her smile, I fell in love. Of course, it was only the kind of love a seven year old boy feels. So, from that moment on, Vek'lor had two apprentices. The first thing I said to Artecia Isabel, I did not learn her name until that evening, was as naive as "You're really pretty". That scene in the courtyard of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant is among the happiest memories I have. Her eyes, her smile, her hair messily covering her face, and that heart-warming giggle... it still warms my entire body.

As we walked out, Vek'lor knelt before us and said, "Today, I want you both to get to know each other, you will be like brother and sister, and you will depend upon each other, and be able to stand alone, just as strong." He smiled at us and continued.

"Your apprenticeship will be different than that of others, you will learn at the same pace, but grow at a different one. Together, you will make for the finest Jedi Knights this order has seen in some time. Remember, you can tell me or ask me anything."

He paused, and his expression became firm. "Enjoy today, tomorrow you will be Jedi Apprentices, the path is not easy, but it will be rewarding, of that I can promise."

With that, he gestured for us to follow him. He took us to an enormous hall, filled with other fresh apprentices. The hall itself was lined with tables and benches which were carved of marble and stone, and all the tables were adorned with dishes filled with any food imaginable. I saw more people my age than I'd ever seen before. There were Humans, Grann, Twi'lek, Trandoshann, Rodians, a Weequay and even a Cathar. I was, for whatever reason, frightened. And I think Artecia was too, because she clutched my arm very tightly. Immediately she asked my name, and I answered without asking hers. She then said, after looking around, "Let's go sit over there Ari, that table's kind of empty." My heart still melts at such a remark... so full of youth. That would be the first of many times I'd eat well. And that would be the first of many nights we'd sleep together, yet for the time we slept in our own separate beds, as expected. Vek'lor was kind enough to tuck us each in and forgive the fact that it was normally forbidden for anyone to sleep in the same bed. He even told us a story of a Jedi Knight who accidentally turned away a possible Apprentice, a story that made us giggle with delight at a blind old mans stubbornness. That night I slept more than soundly, even with the lingering thought of wondering what happened to my sister, Serannis.

It took twelve years for us to finally finish our training as apprentices on Coruscant. We, along with all the other apprentices, became Jedi Padawans. And we were all separated. I do not know where the others were sent, but we, along with a few others, were sent to the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine. The moment we arrived, Vek'lor told us to simply explore the golden oceans of sunburned grass, to look for a good place to meditate. And he reminded us to be wary of temptation. He had always told us, and especially emphasized this after we'd outgrown the innocence of childhood and began our journey through adolescence and into adulthood, that emotion was something that we must suppress, especially the feelings of passion and lust. And each day it was easy for us. And each night it was miserably difficult, when we lay there in the same bed, defying all the disciplines we'd been taught, so close to one another, merely in undergarments... But we kept Vek'lor's trust in mind and refrained from anything. It was, after all forbidden for us to merely sleep in the same bed. But, on that first day on Dantooine, when we were exposed to its painting of a sunset, that changed. It began subtly, after we'd been walking for some time, when we were past the Matale estate, past the Kinrath infested Crystal Caves. It began with a gesture as simple as her taking of my hand. And when we reached a cliff facing a lake, I was amazed at how quickly things escalated. It began with a soft, shy and uncertain kiss, and became an almost fevered flurry of deeper and more passionate kisses, and eventually she toppled me and lay beside me, panting.

Her voice shook with a small fear and uncertainty, and she asked me, "Ari... Araqueil...will... Will this start our journey down the Dark Path..?" And I never answered.

I thought for moment that felt like a year, and could only kiss her. And I do not remember what happened between that kiss and the moment I entered her. I only remember the feeling of our hearts beating so rapidly, the sounds of our breathing, so heavy and almost ragged... and the soft and subtle moan that escaped her. The ambiance could not have been more comforting, only the wind rustling the tall grass and the waves softly breaking at the bottom of the cliff.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Dantooine

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That memory of Artecia and I was the last of its kind in the sense that was about as happy as we would be. The love we shared indeed bloomed and there was rarely any lust in our intimacies; even to this day, after everything that has happened, I cannot lie to myself. I still love her... Dantooine was, in truth, extraordinarily mundane. The only excitement lay with sparring against either a fellow Padawan or the occasional Knight. Despite the lack of activity, I was at peace there. It was cliché really, just like a holofilm. Soon, however, things started to make a turn for the worse, and it began with a visit from Artecia's mother. If I'm not mistaken, it's quite typical of two lovers to introduce each other to their families... except I did not know where the remainder of my family was, and neither of them knew we were lovers. After I met her, introduced myself and bid her farewell, I dismissed myself and was out of their sight almost out of earshot when I heard that woman sigh with disgust. I stopped to eavesdrop, and I still almost wish I hadn't.

"So this is the... man...? How did you end up with him? When you told me all those things about him I thought you were being harsh, but now seeing him in person, I'm just confused as to why the Order paired you with him... he won't become a Knight, he'll fall apart, I can promise you that."

I had no idea that Artecia had told her mother of all the fears, doubts and unexplained fits of depression that I had conveyed to her. What that woman said to her daughter that day still hits me as rather harsh and unnecessary...

"It's fortunate you're not in love with the boy, unless you wish to love a broken plaything..."

She said more, but I didn't want to hear anymore. I spent a short time waiting in the inner courtyard for her to come back. When she did, she looked more than infuriated, muttering the Jedi Code under her breath: There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no arrogance, there is knowledge. There is no death, there is the Force. That is not the complete code, just what she said as she tugged at my robes, motioning for me to come with her to our room. Once we were in private, she broke into tears. This was not the first or last time our... secret... love would cause that to happen.

Just a week after that, my sister, Serannis, now 29, finally managed to track me down. It did bring tears to my eyes to see her again. She'd grown up so much… and I'm sure she thought the same of her younger brother. Like Artecia did with her mother, I told Serannis everything that had happened in my life up until that point, so we would take up a good portion of the day speaking of merely myself. The difference between Artecia speaking to her mother and myself speaking with my sister was that I had not seen or heard from Serannis since Kessel. She, it so happened, had enlisted in the Republic Navy and had already led a few successful campaigns against these new enemies... these Mandalorians. Her success combined with the need for more and more officers granted her the rank of Captain in the Republican Navy, not a small feat. After I'd told her about Artecia and I, she did nothing short of offer me the truest of comfort and encouraged me to love Artecia, and told me that she felt the idea that Jedi were not allowed to love was a foolish notion that prevented nothing. An opinion I shared. Aside from that, however, the conversations were typical and uneventful.

"How have you been... That's good... That's interesting... I'm proud of you... I love you... I love you too."

Before she left, she kissed me. It was not in some passionate manner reserved for lovers, just two pairs of lips pressed against each other briefly, like a mother would her child son; it was uncomfortable, but at the same time it was understandable... we had not seen each other in over a decade, and we were all that we really had left. Had I know what was to come, I would have implored her to stay with me. The image of Serannis' face, her yellow eyes, her somewhat short white hair plastered over her face because of the breeze will never leave my mind. We would end up fighting together, and I would end up being the last member of my bloodline.

Soon after these events I would be introduced to the most influential figures of this era, even more so, I believe, than Exar Kun or the Quel-Droma brothers. They were Revan and Malak. To think that at one point they were like any other Jedi Padawans now is almost unfathomable by anyone who did not know them personally. To most, they are monsters that have always been monsters. But I still recall a scene that was so bland and ordinary at the time that it would shock me to quite a degree after our fall to the Dark Side: It was evening on Dantooine, and Revan, Malak and Artecia were all sitting on a table playing Pazaak, a card game I never learned to play nor cared for. As I was offered a deck of cards, I smiled and agreed to sit down and play. Everything was so different then... it still shakes the very foundations of my beliefs. All of us were wearing the traditional brown over-robes and off-white under-robes of the Jedi Order. Malak still had his lower jaw attached to his face, Revan's hair was worn loose and her smile held no trace of maliciousness and Artecia wore her hair in a ponytail and her eyes were a darker blue, almost ocean green. And to think that we would all favor the road less traveled... It would not be long before we became Jedi Knights. And soon after that, the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders began their siege on the Outer-Rim of the Republic. My master, Vek'lor, would become one of Revan and Malak's strongest supporters in their decision to ignore the Jedi Council's warnings against going to war. Many of the newly appointed Jedi Knights would agree with Revan and Malak, we believed we would be fighting for the greater good. It was our duty as Jedi to protect the Galactic Republic and its people. The way we saw it, by defying the Council's decision to wait more, while innocents were dying by the billions, we were the wise and they were the arrogant. The Republic needed us. The civilized galaxy needed us. _My sister needed me..._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: From the End of One, Another Rises

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Do you know what fear is, sentient? I do not ask of the typical fear spurred by something sudden and unexpected, or the type that you feel when something or someone explodes from an unexpected place. I ask of true fear. The fear that lingers... you know its there, and you know you cannot stop it. The type that you feel when you see dozens of your comrades lie gutted by vibro-swords or riddled with blaster bolts, and yet you only see a scant few of your foes lying dead, their armor stained with the blood of you allies. I felt fear when I went to war. Every one of us who followed Revan and Malak to war against the Mandalorians felt fear. The Masters always told us that fear was the first step. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. As I recount my experiences to you, sentient, I have felt each of these things. What I have yet to uncover is what happens after suffering. And to think it all began on one of the moons of Onderon.

_This is wrong... I should not be here.._ Those were the only thoughts racing through my mind after I first dipped my feet into the bloody waters that were the Mandalorian Wars. My war began on Dxun, the largest moon of Onderon. Dxun, with the darkest history of the surrounding star system, but that is another story for another time. There were many Jedi who chose to fight rather than wait, and a good portion of us were sent to Dxun, a Hell made of lush, thick and humid jungles. It never stopped raining, the closest it came to that was a light mist in place of a minor storm. From the moment my platoon and I arrived, things went wrong. The transport that I took to the surface was hit by Mandalorian anti-air guns, and the crash killed half of those aboard. I had not seen anyone die in well over a decade, the pilot of the transport, who miraculously survived, would be the first of thousands of deaths I was damned to witness. I was twenty-five then, merely two years ago. That pilot suffered minor injuries and was limping to a medical station, smiling at the two soldiers assisting her. Her smile did not leave her face, even as her helmet flew off, revealing a head covered by wavy blond hair, and her head snapped back from the impact being hit by high powered blaster rifle. Someone shouted "SNIPER!" in a panicked manner, and with that, I ignited my lightsaber, my first one, which was blue and reflected my position as a Jedi Guardian, and moved out to hunt my first Mandalorian. He would be the first of thousands, Mandalorian or otherwise, to die at my hands.

That first skirmish was in our favor. We killed the snipers, repelled the ambush, and moved on to link up with the rest of the platoon. Dxun was a miserable experience. We did not set up any encampments and relied solely on sentries to warn us of danger while we slept. There were many nights no one slept upon hearing some poor soul scream in agony and terror as he was torn apart by a pack of Maalraas. We were always moving, always fighting, always receiving replacements for our recent dead. Every day we encountered small squadrons Mandalorians, and every day we'd have lost at least half the platoon, only to have the ranks filled by fresher and less experienced soldiers. Yet throughout it, moral remained high. Upon seeing a Mandalorian Elite be cut in two by a simple swipe of my arm, they would fight harder, driven to at least live another day. The Republican infantry under my command kept high spirits for most of the campaign on Dxun, especially upon hearing of Revan's victory over the skies of Taris. But the other news that they did not hear would have crushed their morale entirely. The Republic was losing its troops by the millions. And those were only the fatalities. And they did not know just how thin the Jedi were spread throughout the front lines. More often than not, it was one of us to a platoon, and we rarely met up with each other. I did not see Artecia or Vek'lor, only once upon boarding the landing craft.

Everyone would lose something on Dxun, a friend, a loved one... their sanity. To this day, I believe that Dxun was the most horrific campaign of the Mandalorian Wars, matched only by Malachor V. But we believed in Revan and her tactics. Even after she had become as brutal as our oppressors.

_"Revan says we must take Dxun... we cannot fail, if we do, the Republic is lost..."_

It is what I told my men, it is what my men told themselves. Regardless of the fact we outnumbered the Mandalorians five to one, they butchered us. They either rushed us, or they crept upon us. And yet morale was high... the Republican soldiers under my command wanted to live... to see this war end.. But they were just that. Soldiers, trained for a few years of their lives, shooting only at still targets in controlled environments. They were not prepared to fight a foe who was willing to raze entire worlds merely to provoke us into fighting them. The Mandalorians spent their lives seeking the rush and the thrill of battle. They spent their lives fighting, weeding out those not fit to fight early on. The Mandalorians were warriors.

Dxun would cost me two people. Both of them were dear to me. One of them I loved with all my heart, the other I held the greatest respect for. The first loss I was to suffer would come as an immense blow to not only the morale of the Republican soldiers, but it would be a tragedy to the Jedi Knights. My Master, Vek'lor, was damned on that abnormally stormy day. The rain came down in such a manner that there was no point in trying to dry off. The Republic finally managed to get a few transports loaded with supplies to establish a forward command post. It was completed rather quickly, and was blessing to since it was a place for us to meet, rest, recuperate, and plan effectively. However, it was nearly immediately after the post was established that it came under attack. We later learned how dangerously close we were to the Mandalorian base of operations. My platoon and had just reached the perimeter as the battle was reaching its height. Troops from both sides were taking cover behind walls, reinforced power-cores and even corpses of fallen combatants. Eventually, we would take it back, eventually the last Mandalorians standing would be surrounding my Master, and eventually he would strike them all down. The rain vaporized upon touching the brilliant blue blade of his lightsaber. Artecia arrived beside me just in time to see him smile one last time. He put away the blade and began to walk toward us. One Mandalorian was determined, however, to prove that the Jedi were as easy prey as the Republic soldiers that had been their prey for so long. He had just enough strength to drive his vibro-sword through Vek'lors heart and say one thing:

_"Par Te Ani'la Mand'alor.."_

For Mandalore the Ultimate. For their leader... For their leader, my Master, the closest being I had to a father, was laying face first in the mud, blood pooling around him, he was dead. Artecia and I had become numb to the death of Republican infantry, as had almost all the other Jedi involved in Dxun. In the months to come, many Jedi would lose their lives. But for Artecia, myself and the first wave of Jedi Knights to see the war on Dxun, our fight there was over. Only half of us survived. We were replaced by newer, fresher Knights, and we were extracted to the my sister, Serannis's Capital Ship _Reconciliation_. The campaign on Dxun would last only a short time until the Mandalorians were out of reserves and retreated.

Upon our extraction to the _Reconciliation_ we were attacked by Mandalorian fighters. These were dispatched rather quickly. However, we missed the boarding craft. All four ships in the battle-group were boarded. On ours, resistance was eradicated until the corridor just before the bridge of the ship. Makeshift cover was erected, using tables, cargo containers anything. And my sister was right in the thick of it. Shouting orders, firing, directing the medics to the wounded. It seemed like we would hold them off. It seemed like there was hope after all, even as the other three ships were being overrun. One self-destructed, the others did not get a chance to do so. Then, one of the invaders threw a thermal detonator into the fray. The explosion killed off a large portion of the defenders, and that was the time for the Jedi to get involved. As I rushed to aid the defenders, I saw Serannis fighting for her life. I ran toward her as fast as I could. And even that was not enough. A forceful blow to her face by a Mandalorian Commando disoriented her, and that gave him the opening he needed to deliver a quick slash across her throat, which painted his bright yellow armor red. Then he came after me. I was not only shocked, I was enraged. My sister, my blood, was dead. And as he charged me with his sword drawn, I pulled him toward me and ran him through. My shock was such that I did not bother to turn off my lightsaber, I just dropped it. I paid no attention to what any of the other survivors were doing. All I saw was Serannis with the calmest expression I'd seen on anyone for some time. I did not notice Artecia walking to me with her arm outstretched as if to grab me. I remember walking through the pools of blood to get to my sister... leaving crimson footprints. Artecia pulled me away once I got to Serannis.

"It's for the best that you do not see her like this... she died with pride Ari..."

Once those words left her mouth, I nearly sprinted to the bridge and arrived just in time to see the ship jump to hyperspace.

Artecia and I would fight on Malachor and witness the failings of sentient life. We would witness cowardice, betrayal, fear, terror, rage, hatred, blood lust... and we would see destruction on scale neither of us thought possible. Malachor V was not destroyed; that would not have been the right word... Malachor was shattered. Few Jedi would survive, and only one would return to the Republic, only to be turned away and exiled. Revan and Malak would take the survivors who chose not to return to the Republic or the Jedi on some far-fetched quest to find some ancient technology. In the year they spent searching for these... Star Maps, some of us started to think they'd lost their minds. Oh how wrong we were...

After their last voyage to some world in the middle of nowhere, they had changed. Revan's skin had paled notably, as had Malak's; she wore her hair up all of a sudden; Malak suffered some grievous wound that left him lacking a lower jaw. Yet they were still heroes to all of us, they were still the ones who brought salvation to the Republic. And for that we still followed them. When we first saw it, the Star Forge, we had no words. As we were lead onto it, we were silent. And as soon as all the starships had been docked, and their crews were off of them, Revan assembled us all in an enormous hangar, featuring a gigantic black veil over a huge portion of it. What she said, we could have never imagined at the time. What she said, was the beginning of the Jedi Civil War. She was brief:

"As of now, we are no longer Jedi, no longer Republican, bound by pathetic councils who prefer inaction until a threat is breathing down their necks... No.. We shall become the new age of power. This galaxy shall be cleansed of the wretched and the weak. Our new Empire, it shall be feared and known throughout the galaxy, the Core Worlds will fall under our might. This day, this moment, we rise from the ashes as the new Sith Empire!"

Her voice was powerful, her eyes bright, her charismatic personality truly shining... every instinct inside me screamed to end this now, to stop this before it begins... _kill Revan... kill Malak... they are too far down the path to be saved..._ Yet such thoughts only proved that I too was destined to walk this path. And I did nothing but listen. As the soldiers, crewmen, officers and captains murmured with some interest in such claims, the Jedi remained silent.

"This magnificent ancient technology, this Forge which feeds from a star, it shall provide us an infinite fleet, an infinite army! _INFINITE POWER!"_

The expression she wore as she waved her hand horizontally toward the veiled section of them hangar was one of a malevolent hope. The first Interdictor-class Cruiser redesigned for the Sith Empire appeared from behind that black veil. With it's appearance a roar of approval shook the hangar... We remained silent.

Some days later, Revan summoned those who wielded a lightsaber to the command center of the Star Forge. She spoke of promises of power, of our purpose to do well for the galaxy. And as she spoke she entered something into a console. There were several production cylinders linked to the console apparently, and they all glowed. Revan strode to the nearest one, opened it, and revealed a set of robes,boots and gloves; all just like the ones we currently wore... save one difference. These were an abyssal black.

"So, my friends... will you join me in my crusade... will you drink from the knowledge that has been forbidden to us by the closed minds of the Jedi... will you help me?"

Her voice was soft. She held the robes in one hand and the boots and gloves with the other. And the first to speak, was Artecia.

"I shall do as you wish... My Dark Mistress."

And with those words, Revan smiled... unnervingly sweetly. In the background, Malak grunted in approval, his new technologically aided voice just as unnerving.

"Kneel, take your new vestments, and give me your lightsaber, Artecia... allow me to offer you rebirth as a Knight of the new Sith Order."

Artecia did as she was asked, and looked bemused by the action that Revan took. She held Artecia's lightsaber like something diseased, and with her own right-handed lightsaber, now redder than the eyes of the most vicious Laigrek, destroyed it. She then said to Artecia, soothingly:

"You will construct a new lightsaber, this one to your liking. Malak will instruct you on using the Forge's abilities to create any focusing and color crystals you wish. This is your test. Just like the one we took on Dantooine all those years ago... this time, however, you shall not be limited."

We all followed Artecia's example. Every single one of us knelt, accepted the robes, and surrendered our lightsabers.

It is such a quiet thing... to fall so far...


End file.
